THE SLAVE GIRL OF AGRA
know not when my estate will be restored to me; nor would I wish for it soon, if that means your departure to Debipur. Perhaps a happier fate might—"
Noren stopped abruptly, but Saibalini read his thoughts. "Debipur," she said, "is not far from Birnagar, and we will meet often, I hope, brother Noren. But those who are of Debipur must return to Debipur; we have stood apart for three hundred years and more."
"Shall we be apart again? Need that be, sister Saibalini?"
"I am but a woman, brother Noren, and know little of these things which engage the thoughts of men. But I have heard our old men say that Debipur has traditions and a history of its own, and that the sons and daughters of Debipur are true to those traditions. Fishes cannot breathe in the air, nor birds live under the water."
So saying, Saibalini left Noren and Hemlata, and was called into the house to do her evening's work. Noren felt the import of Saibalini's last words, and was thoughtful and silent.
The moon was up in the sky and trembled in the waters of the lake, and a gentle breeze fanned the tall trees and drew a weird sound. Something of the romantic tales, which Hemlata had often heard from Noren in his childhood on this very spot, came back to her mind, and she looked up to his face with the innocence of childhood. Noren's handsome face was lighted by the moon, and as he was looking at the Polar Star a beautiful Indian legend came to his mind.
"Dost thou remember, Hemlata, how I used to sit
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